


after the storm

by Mikkal



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Cuddles, Grief/Mourning, spoilers for Invincible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6951295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkal/pseuds/Mikkal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(the aftermath of <i>Invincible</i> ft. Fluffernutter Toebeans and sadness)</p>
            </blockquote>





	after the storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hedgi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedgi/gifts).



He wakes up.

            And, for a moment, believes it’s all a dream— _nightmare_.

            But then he moves.

His joints creak like he’s run for too long, too far, his feet feel swollen, every limb is a 100-tonne weight that doesn’t want to be lifted. Gunk from crying so hard keeps his eyes shut, his skin too tight, _too tight_ , his eyes puffy and raw. His chest, hollow, empty, too worn out.

He’s floated away. He’s gone.

(if only)

There’s _warm_ next to him and he finds himself turning his head, forcing his eyes open, to see Iris curled on the bed next to him, cuddling his arm like she would a stuffed animal. _On the bed_. Joe’s bed. The biggest bed in the house. How’d he get here?

Cisco’s on his other side, arm and leg hanging off the edge, flat on his stomach, his fingers just barely brushing Barry’s wrist. Caitlin is sideways at his feet, arm thrown over his ankle.

A chair with a blanket and a pillow tell him Joe’s story, though it’s empty now. He can guess he’s downstairs. Where everyone else is. Wally, Jesse, Harry, Tina, his da— _not his dad_.

His throat tightens, his eyes prickle and sting. He closes them, taking a deep shuddering breath.

He’s the last Allen.

He’s truly an orphan now.

His _parents_ —

Tears leak from the corner of his eyes, pooling in his ears and getting his pillow wet. His chest jerks with every effort it takes _not_ to make noise. He’s not sure how he could handle actual comfort right now. Not now. Please, he’s tired of breaking, of shattering. He’s already a million little pieces, cracked and dull, how much smaller can the Universe break him into?

“ _mrrrow?”_

Weight presses down on his thigh, then his stomach up to his chest. He keeps his eyes closed until fur brushes his chin, his cheek. Fluffernutter presses her nose against his, sniffing along to his eyes. She kneads his chest carefully, the sharp point of her claws nicking him only sometimes.

Barry breathes sharply through his nose, choking on a sob.

She curls up high on his chest, practically cradled in his collarbone, and starts purring that low purr she does when she wants him to start purring back. That purr he does when he’s content, satisfied, _happy._ He can’t. _He can’t_. There’s a vice around his chest, _squeezing_.

“Barry…”

He sobs loudly, suddenly, covering his face with the hand not held by Iris. He covers his face and hopes the world will leave him alone, please, just this once. Give him a respite that won’t blow up in his face later.

Soft fingers touch his jaw, tracing up to his cheekbone. “ _Barry_ …”

Barry turns, cuddling Fluffernutter to his chest even as she lets out a surprised ‘ _mmurrph!,’_ and curls against Iris, pressing his forehead to her chest, his breaths shuddered, shallow. She cradles him against her, dragging a hand up and down his back, the other scratching fingers in his hair.

She doesn’t say anything, no words of comfort, no ‘it’s going to be okay’ or ‘you’re okay.’ She just hums. Fluffernutter purrs.

And Barry starts crying. Loud, controlled, _hurting_ , _grieving_.

Cisco presses against his back, swinging an arm over his waist. Caitlin stands and disappears with a quiet whisper he doesn’t catch, but Cisco replies to.

She comes back with a cool compress and an extra blanket—too small for a grown man, too worn to be new. She tucks the compress against his neck and lower shoulders, Cisco presses his forehead against it to keep it there, sighing. The blanket gets bunched between him and Iris, under Fluffernutter—who’s back to purring encouragingly. Then, only then, does Caitlin slide at the head of the bed, shifting Cisco over her legs, propping Barry’s back so he angled more towards Iris, her hand tight on his shoulder, thumb pressing _right in that spot_.

(he should feel _guilty_. she’s gone through all this trauma and here she is, taking care of him. _again_. because he wasn’t fast enough. he’s never fast enough. with the universe on his side he’s still too slow. screw accepting the tragedies that the world throws at him. _it’s too much. he can’t handle it. please stop. please_ )

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes out, his nose buried in Fluffernutter’s fur.

Caitlin sighs that sigh she does when he’s doing something worth fondness and exasperation. “Don’t,” is all she says.

Barry curls up tighter, losing the fragile grip he has on control. _Oh so fragile_. “Why?” he whispers in response. “Why does the universe _hate_ him? He just got back. I just got him back. _Why_?”

No one answers him.

They can’t.


End file.
